Matthew 6: 7-18

            In the current movie The Interpreter, one of the main characters tells a native African story about justice. When someone is convicted of murder, they are taken down to the river; their hands are tied so they can't swim, and they are thrown into the water, in front of the murder victim's family.

            Forgiveness is not mentioned in the telling of that story; but forgiveness is at the heart of it. And I believe that woven into that story is wisdom that is also woven into the best moments of the Bible. I say particularly, in the 'best' moments of the Bible, because the Bible is a mixed bag when it comes to teaching about forgiveness. You can look into the Bible and see passages of great barbarity toward someone who has done you wrong. Whole villages are wiped out; torturous scenes are described; whole sections of psalms are devoted to getting back at your enemies; bloody, vengeful battles are described at the end of the Bible, when it is depicted how Jesus will return and wipe out his foes. These are not high moral moments in the Bible; these are moments when understandably bitter human feelings come to the fore, and little forgiveness is to be found.

            But at its best moments, the Bible has powerful and wise teaching about mercy, and forgiveness. And certainly the best of that teaching is reflected in Jesus' Sermon on the Mount, and later brought to the highest possible moment when Jesus said his words of forgiveness as he hung dying on the cross.

            This morning's scripture lesson is from the Sermon on the Mount, and includes the teaching of the Lord's Prayer. This prayer, which is one of the only parts of the Bible that most people in our society know, is intended not only to teach us how to pray- but also to teach us how to think and how to live.

            First it tells us how to think about God: "Our Father who art in heaven." A God who is as close to us and loves us like a heavenly Parent, but who is at the same time high above our understanding, residing in heaven far beyond our small minds. Then we are told to think and act toward God with holiness: "Hallowed be thy name." Next we are told how to fashion our lives and our society - "thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." In other words, our society and our daily lives should be molded around the kingdom of God - the place where God's will is done.

            Then we pray about our daily needs - "Give us this day our daily bread"; forgive us as we forgive others. Deliver us from evil; lead us not into temptation. It is what we have come to know as the complete prayer. But it is interesting that, according to Matthew, after Jesus taught this prayer, he picked one particular part out of it to teach on further - and that part is forgiveness. It's as if he knew that the one part of this prayer, this life-teaching, that we would have most trouble grasping was the idea of forgiveness. And so after the prayer, here is what he taught:

            "For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you; but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses." Not to question the teaching authority of Jesus, but it seems unfortunate, in away, that he seems to talk about forgiveness as either a commodity to be traded, or an act to be done once and for all. Those two mistaken ideas of what forgiveness means have confused a lot of people.

            First of all, some have seen forgiveness as a commodity - in fact, it has even been talked of in terms of money. (That's why some Christians say 'debts' instead of 'trespasses' in the Lord's prayer.) In one of Jesus' famous stories about forgiveness he talks about a rich man who was owed money, and when the debtor pleaded with him how hard it was going to be to pay the loan, the rich man forgave the loan. Then that debtor was owed a much smaller amount by someone else, and the same thing

happened, except that debtor, whose own debt had been so recently forgiven, refused to show mercy on the poor man who owed him money. The rich man heard about this, and then reinstated the original debt and more. This is the graphic illustration of what the Lord's Prayer teaches: Forgive us...as we forgive (others.)" Forgiveness, then, is like a commodity - if you pay out enough, you'll get a good return on your investment. Somehow, I don't think that's what Jesus meant.

            The other misunderstanding is that forgiveness is an act that you do, and then you move on. Someone comes to you and says, "I apologize; please forgive me." You say, "I accept your apology; you are forgiven." And then, we think, it's over and done with. Forgive and forget, is the phrase we use. And people are very troubled when it doesn't quite work that way. People will say, "I don't understand; I forgave him years ago, but I still get angry about it." Or, "I forgave her, but I still don't trust her; does that mean I haven't really forgiven her?"

            I suppose there are people who would debate me on this, but I have never seen much evidence that there is any such thing as "Forgive and forget." And I'm not sure there should be. For example, when something happens like the Holocaust, or the genocide in Rwanda, or the desolation of Native-Americans through so much of our own history, or the buying and selling of slaves - should we ever forget that human beings are capable of such crimes? I don't believe so; I believe we need to relive those terrible moments again and again, and never forget - so we know how easily those things could happen again - and how often they do.

            But what about forgiveness? Do we forgive the people who did those terrible things? Some people say No. Those crimes are too terrible. When I watched Schindler's List, or Dances With Wolves, I was enraged. No way was I in a forgiving mood. But are we saying that those things are worse than crucifying the Son of God? Our faith teaches us that that was the darkest moment in all of history. And Jesus said, from the very worse of it, "Father, forgive them.. ."

            I believe that forgiveness is not a bill we pay so that we can be forgiven; and it's not an act that we do so we can have it over and done with. I believe forgiveness is a way of life that we have to be willing to put on every day, like the suit of clothes we put on in the morning. The writer of Colossians in the New Testament gives this beautiful passage in chapter 3, verses 12-14: "As God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.

            Sometimes I wonder if the greatest enemy of true faith is whoever it was that first invented the notion that the Christian life is about covering the bases so you can get to heaven. People walk in fear wondering if they have done enough to be 'saved' - if they've said the right things, believed just so, done the minimum to get in. One time the disciple Peter came to Jesus and asked him, "Lord, if my brother sins against me, how often should I forgive? Seven times?" In other words, what is the minimum that ,

will satisfy whoever is keeping score up there? And Jesus must have shocked him with the answer. "Seventy times seven," he said.

            "Seventy times seven? Who can keep track of 490 times?" That's the point exactly. It's not about some magic number. It's about a way of life. It's about how you conduct yourself in this world. It's about getting up every day and clothing yourself with compassion and kindness and humility and meekness and patience. Because then you are putting on the raiments of love, and those are the raiments of Christ.

            There are some stunning examples of this kind of love. A few weeks go, the Rubenstein Social Justice Award was presented to Mark Harris, Sr., a Syracuse man whose son was shot and killed just before his 18th birthday. After that terrible tragedy, the boy's family, as the newspaper article says, 'transformed their grief into love.' Harris goes to the neighborhood hangouts and befriends young people. Many of them come to his home and become like part of the family. As a family, they strive to give young people what many of them crave and lack - affection - the kind of affection that they would give their son if he were still alive.

            That's more than an act of forgiveness; that's a life of forgiveness. Forgiveness is the clothing they wear, and, as Harris says, 'my misery has become my ministry.' Does he miss his son? Of course. Does he still get angry at the young man who took his life - I would think so. Did he forgive and forget? No way. He forgives and remembers, and turns the memory into something healing and peace-building.

            So here's the thing. Every morning when you get up and put on your outfit for the day, do you put on love? Do you clothe yourself in patience, forgiveness, compassion? These are important questions, because outrageous things are going to happen. They do every day. Some aggressive or oblivious driver is going to cut you off - that can either ruin your day, or strengthen your resolve to drive wisely. The umpire is going to miss a call - maybe that can prompt you to teach young people

how to play the game. A co-worker may drop the ball on you - maybe you can turn that into advocacy for fairness in the workplace, or an opportunity to get to know that person better. A news report makes you angry - anger can be God's way of bringing passion and energy - how will you turn it into something constructive?

            That's a much different approach to forgiveness than keeping score or covering a base. It lives out the Lord's Prayer - because only when we have accepted a life of forgiving the trespasses of others can we truly know the love that would forgive our own trespasses. It also incorporates the wisdom of the African story. Taking vengeance can only enslave us; showing mercy frees us to love again, to live again. It doesn't condone or accept outrageous behavior. Instead, it responds to it in a way that can bring hope and healing - turning misery into ministry; anger into righteous energy; the cross of death into forgiving love.

            We don't witness a lot of that; we don't experience enough of it. But when we do, we know that God has done something very, very special. There is no greater act of God, no greater miracle of hope, in our lives or in this world, than true forgiveness.